


Outliers

by viviansternwood



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viviansternwood/pseuds/viviansternwood
Summary: Based on two prompts:(1) a married fic with a falling out, some passionate arguing in front of people, and then a gentle reconciliation - byyorkshirewench, and(2) future married fic with babies or Charlotte being pregnant - by anon.





	Outliers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yorkshirewench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkshirewench/gifts).

> Hope I did these prompts justice! Enjoy whatever this is lol.

As a married couple, Mr and Mrs Sidney Parker were not in the habit of spending a lot of time in town. Charlotte’s being much more of a country girl at heart, and them both preferring to be in constant close proximity to the rest of the Parkers, prevented them from residing for more than an occasional fortnight in town, and even that being commanded solely by Sidney’s necessary attendance to business affairs. The rest of the time, they were happy to return to Sanditon.

Ah, Charlotte’s beloved Sanditon. She felt there could be no better place in the world. Sidney always agreed with her on this, but she suspected it was more because he wished to see her happy, rather than out of his genuine affection for the resort.

“I do not feel fully at ease, except when you are near,” he had confided in her once, as they had been lounging in a settee in front of a fire, Charlotte reading out of Mrs Radcliffe’s _The Romance of the Forest_ to him, her feet in Sidney’s lap.

She had thought that over for a moment. “An outlier,” she had said, referring to their conversations, ones they’d had before she had even known she was in love with him. He had nodded, pursing his lips and staring into the fire. “Well,” Charlotte had said, “now that you have me, I’m afraid you can’t _truly_ be an outlier anymore. Whether you want it or not, I’m with you now. Perhaps we can be outliers together!” she had smiled at him. “I can study the art of brooding, and work on my aura of mystery.”

He had laughed at this, unable to bear it any longer with a serious face, and had pulled her in for a soft and heart-warming kiss.

Little more than a year into the marriage by now, and Charlotte could not remember a single moment where she had wondered whether she’d made the right choice in marrying Sidney Parker. He was everything she could have ever wanted in a life partner, and some mornings, as she lay next to him in bed, looking at him, still asleep (for he was very much a late riser), she could not believe her happiness. He completed her in every respect, met her halfway, supported her and accepted her, and most importantly, loved her as much as she loved him. She was a very fortunate woman indeed.

Several days prior, Charlotte had found out delightful news that she had been waiting to share with Sidney. She was enceinte, and once she had known, she had wanted to tell him immediately, but he had not been in an appropriate mood for it (a letter from Tom, stating that he had exceeded his income once again that month had had much to do with his frustrated state of mind). Charlotte was not anxious about his reaction, for she knew he wanted children — they had discussed it before their wedding; — but she had this romantic notion, that the moment when she told him they were going to have their first child had to be perfect. So, for now, she waited.

Their return from London this time felt much faster, since she slept most on Sidney’s shoulder most of the way. She was often fatigued lately — something that was not out of the ordinary for the early stages, as she had the opportunity to learn the many times her mother had carried Charlotte’s younger siblings. Sidney did not question it, for it was Charlotte’s habit to occasionally doze off in the carriage during their travels to and from London.

They arrived in Sanditon in late afternoon, and Sidney’s plan was to go to Trafalgar House directly to discuss Tom’s spending habits with him. Charlotte, however, wished to see Georgiana, and to take a small walk around town with her. They parted with a kiss, having decided on reuniting once again for dinner that they had been invited to have at Trafalgar House, at five.

Sidney, unwilling, as always, to part with her even for a moment, kissed her with so much love and passion that, were they still in London, they would have drawn much unwanted attention to themselves for the impropriety of it. Charlotte contemplated revealing her news to him now — his spirits were lifted now that they were out of London and back in the peace and quiet of Sanditon — but decided against it, for she had no wish to hold him back. She elected to tell him all of it that night, in the comfort of their bedroom.

And so she let him go, and was off to visit Georgiana, mere hours left until she would tell him that their lives would change forever.

***

Georgiana, although more than delighted on account of her friend’s return from London, was unable to join Charlotte, for she had displeased Mrs Griffiths earlier that day by making an unladylike remark, and was not permitted to leave her lodgings. Charlotte was not deterred, however, longing for some exercise after the long hours of confinement in the carriage on the way back to Sanditon. She, therefore, promenaded along the beach, where she happened upon Arthur and Diana Parkers (who greeted her with all due warmth and affection, and insisted on their urgent need to return home).

It began to drizzle, but to someone as accustomed to the countryside as Charlotte this was nothing, and she wanted to make use of this opportunity by taking a prolonged walk, for she knew that, once Sidney found out about her condition, he would insist she reduce her normal amount of exercise. If there was anything they ever quarrelled about, it was Charlotte’s safety and health.

So she ventured towards the cliffs, where she spent some time indulging in dear memories of the first kiss she and Sidney had shared there. She gathered some shells further down in the cove and decided to return, not wishing to be late for dinner. By the time Charlotte began to ascend the slope, it was raining so heavily that, for a moment, she lost her balance as her foot slipped down in the mud, and she would have fallen, had she not managed to steady herself by holding onto grass as a last resort. She had not climbed up high at that time yet, so a fall would not have been fatal, but could have injured her. The mere thought of that produced endless anxiety and quickened her heartbeat so much that she thought she could hear it.

Mindful of the precious cargo she was carrying, Charlotte concentrated all her attention on slowly and carefully climbing up the slope, which had by now gotten so wet it was very difficult to keep balance. The rain and wind beating in her face exacerbated the issue. With a near titanic effort, she safely made it to the top, and all that was left for her was to walk back to Sanditon. All she hoped for now was that she would get the chance to change for dinner before she saw Sidney.

***

Luck was not on her side, for she did not get that chance. Worse than that, Sidney chanced upon her as he was turning onto the street on his way back from the beach, evidently in search of her. She wondered how late she was for dinner, for he looked worried, and very cross.

Charlotte would never fear him, for she knew she could stand up for herself, and she trusted that Sidney would never wish to harm her. But she detested vexing him, and he always took any risk to her safety too close to heart.

One look at the state of her dress — all wet, stained with mud, her bonnet in her hand (now ruined), her hair drenched — and he guessed where she had been. Charlotte was now happy that she had not told him of her vulnerable state before that, for that would have exacerbated his concern.

“Sidney—” she started to say, wishing to prevent a quarrel, but it was too late.

“What were you thinking?” he asked in a biting tone. “Have you any idea how vexed I have been? Late by one hour, with no word of your whereabouts or at least the direction in which you went. Georgiana said she could not walk with you, so why did you go off on your own?”

They were walking back to their lodgings — rather, storming, in Sidney’s case — almost directly opposite Trafalgar House. They were drawing attention of the people in the street, for the rain had by now reduced to drizzle again, and that increased the chance of passers-by hearing their quarrel. Charlotte was not concerned with that, however.

“Because I was tired of the long carriage ride, and wanted to take a walk,” she said, her tone matching his — loud and determined; her brow furrowed in her obstinacy. “Why must I report back to you?” she hastened, anxious to be dry and warm again, for she was almost shivering with cold by now, her lips trembling.

Sidney followed at an increased speed. “Because you are my _wife_! I must know where you are at all times, for your own safety!”

“I can protect myself. I am not your child to school!”

“I _shall_ school you if you are incapable of seeing the danger in your actions!”

_That_ got to her. It was when someone considered her childish, or incapable of making rational decisions, that she felt truly hurt. Her temper flared no longer. She turned around, almost by the door now, to look at him. The look on her face must have been very upset indeed, for it was evident that his temper cooled, too, and he almost appeared regretful.

“I am your _wife_,” she quietly reminded him, as if he could have forgotten. “How dare you speak to me that way? Especially now,” emotion increased the tremble of her lower lip, and she felt tears spill out of her eyes. “When I— When I am—” she could not finish her sentence and started sobbing, utterly mortified at the same time, for she remembered that they were still in the middle of the street.

“God, Charlotte,” Sidney said, all hostility having left his voice and countenance. He stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her, her tear-stained face on his breast. “I am a belligerent fool, forgive me,” he said to his sobbing wife, his hand caressing her hair. He then touched her dress and realised that she was still standing in the street, her clothes wet, and a touch of panic rose in his chest. “Charlotte, you’ll catch your death. You need to put on dry clothes.”

She gasped, and looked up in his face. “Oh, no. I—” and she disappeared in the house without finishing what she had been about to say.

Sidney followed her and (since her hands were shaking from cold), helped her remove the wet and dirty clothes, wipe her dry with towels, and dress her again. Charlotte was not sobbing any longer, but tears were still rolling down her face, which vexed him, for she had never cried this much whenever they quarrelled before. Once she was clothed, warm, and shivering no longer, he hoped she would calm, but she was still crying, unable to breathe through her nose by now, and letting out an occasional hiccup.

Realising he had not taken off his coat before, he shed it, and hugged his wife once again. She appeared to relax in his arms somewhat. “Please, forgive me, sweetheart,” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “I did not mean to be so hurtful, or to make you cry this much. I am an ass, and will never say another cross word to you.”

“It isn’t you,” she said, looking up into his face again, her nose red, tears still brimming in her eyes. “I am not crying because of what you said. At least, not anymore.”

That baffled him. “Then why?”

“My mother always found it hard to contain her emotions whenever she was enceinte.”

The familiar and beloved by her crease appeared between his brows. Charlotte loved him so much. “You mother… I beg your pardon. Am I missing something?”

Charlotte laughed at him softly. “You are a fool indeed. I am carrying your child,” she told him with a smile, which directly contradicted the general distressed state of her face.

His face was a beautiful sight. She watched his expression first become even more baffled than before; then, his eyebrows rise in disbelief and astonishment, and then:

“Are you certain?”

She nodded. “I have known for several days.”

The softness and love in his eyes could have thrown her off her feet. He brought her hand to his mouth and placed gentle kisses all over it, and then, as though not knowing what to do with himself, kissed her forehead and the crown of her head again. Resting his chin on her head, his eyes closed, Sidney whispered, “Thank you.”

Charlotte softly hummed in satisfaction of his nearness, and his love. “What for?”

He bent down to kiss her once, twice, and then, barely pulling away, said into her lips, “For being my wife. For carrying our child. For everything.”

Tears — this time of happiness — stung her eyes once more. Sidney gently placed his hand onto her stomach.

“You shan’t feel anything yet, for it’s too early,” she laughed exasperatedly.

“Still,” he said, quiet and private, “she’s there. Our little Charlotte.”

“Or little Sidney,” reminded she.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Sidney said once again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, you belligerent fool,” she said, affectionate. He only laughed in response to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. Please review, and be sure to find me [on tumblr](https://viviansternwood.tumblr.com/).


End file.
